


Juliet Save Me

by diazckerman



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Eventual Romance, F/M, Inspired by Romeo and Juliet, Levi and Erwin are grandpas, M/M, Might get angsty, Modern Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan, Multi, No Smut, Other, Roadtrips, Romeo and Juliet References, Sentimental, erwin and levi being grandpas, its mostly romance stuff tho, jikupiku, journalist!pieck, movie inspired events, porco is kinda not nice, sasha and niccolo happily married with a bb
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-22
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-15 16:47:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29562129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/diazckerman/pseuds/diazckerman
Summary: In search of an inspiration to write a novel, Pieck embarks on a journey with Dina, who travels to Verona in hopes of reuniting with her first love. There's just alittlehurdle Pieck has to get by - which is Dina's son, Zeke, a pessimist that continuously butts heads with her and claiming that this is allbullshit.Heavily inspired by 'Letters to Juliet'
Relationships: Dina Yeager | Dina Fritz & Zeke Yeager, Dina Yeager | Dina Fritz/Grisha Yeager, Levi Ackerman/Erwin Smith, Mikasa Ackerman/Eren Yeager, Pieck Finger/Porco Galliard, Pieck Finger/Zeke Yeager, Reiner Braun/Bertolt Hoover, Sasha Blouse/Niccolo, Zeke Yeager/Yelena
Comments: 2
Kudos: 15





	1. PROLOGUE: Crossing Stars

**Author's Note:**

> DISCLAIMER: the plot isn't my idea, it is from the film 'Letters to Juliet' by Gary Winick, starring Amanda Seyfried, Christopher Egan, and Vanessa Redgrave. Obviously, there's going to be little twists and it wont be exactly like the actual movie. I obviously don't own Isayama's characters as well.  
> This fic is literally just for entertainment purposes, obviously, and just to take a breather from the heavy canon events. This is just for my fellow JikiPiku shippers who need more content lol (or maybe you aren't a shipper and you just wanna read).

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A painful choice done in the name of love.

**1980, Verona**

So.... the tale of Juliet's balcony is indeed alive. Dina couldn't decide whether she blended in or deviated from the sea of men and women wailing at the foot of its architecture. The cobblestone building had been decorated with countless of letters, notes, and papers like lush growing to show its age. They slightly danced like leaves along the breeze that blew gently, whistling in a sorrowful tone akin to the cries that rung through her ears. Then the iconic balcony peaks outwards like a plateau on it's second story, where Dina imagined a young woman sighing in such despondency but also hope. Below it hung a wooden sign reading 'Casa di Giuletta', and she feels like she was living in the tales of her schoolmates who'd fawn over this place. She nervously takes subtle steps, as if to test the waters of the heavy ocean she hesitates to swim in. 

Dina clutches on to her leather journal so tightly as the other hand helped her peruse through the letters that were plastered across the wall. She felt a slight wash of guilt as she read through each page, feeling like she was an intruder towards their home of thoughts. After a couple of quick peeks she realizes that although she doesn't know the faces behind each penmanship, she feels like she knows them like she would a friend. All their stories tell of love, but not in a way where it brings joy and elation, but of such... misfortune. Paper after paper revealed different anecdotes but of the same theme: everyone was a laughing stock to fate, who either lost their loves or people lost in love. And she herself, was no to stranger to such thing.

"ANASTASIA?"

"BENEDICTO!" 

The young woman jolts out of her trance and whips her head towards the direction of the voices and she watches them eagerly.

"... or not them..."

The blonde man and brunette woman, assuming to be Benedicto and Anastasia, were deeply engulfed in their loving gazes despite being a couple of feet away from each other. It's like the world stopped for them, a silence of passion that contradicted amidst the cries. Then they both take small steps to each other until it cascades into a run that ends with the lovers wrapping themselves with their arms. Dina hates herself for being filled with envy seeing the way they melt into one heart, into a kiss that she wishes she could feel on her lips again. Learning a bit of Italian through ear, she vaguely makes out their exchanged of desperate 'I'm sorries', of how they missed each other, and Anastasia being afraid of the ill odds but she'd rather take the risk with him. 

Then it feels like something struck her right on the chest that heightened the sting she already felt since last night. Why does she feel so dizzy and even more _lost_ than she already was? Her knees felt so weak that she gave up trying to hold herself up, and everything around her morphed into confusing mosaics. 

" _Grisha_..."

The world suddenly turned into kaleidoscopes, of those green eyes that remind her of Spring. Of the boy who grew vivid flowers on her life that all along she though was only a barren soil destined to be loomed with misery. Of the boy who carried the sun and moon on his back for her when she was tired of the darkness. Of the boy who taught her how to dance when she'd been taught to only sit still. Of the boy who taught her heart how to beat no longer in fear but of such passion. Of the boy with sweet kisses like the cool breeze that whispered of serenity she craved for so long. Of the boy who did nothing but opened her eyes to glimpses of beauty that she has never seen before. 

"I'm... sorry..."

She dreads the idea of him waking up alone, finding nothing by his side but her absence in the form of imprints she left on their sheets. She dreads the idea of just disappearing into oblivion without a farewell or a final kiss to thank him for showing her the light. She dreads the idea of his emerald eyes fading into grey as it rains pools of... sadness? anger? confusion? worry? 

_What does he feel right now?_

She's desperate to run back to and cry at his doorstep. She wants to say she's sorry, that she'll be brave this time like what Anastasia is yelling... but she can't - if she stayed it would be selfish. Their love was _oh_ so beautiful, but with it followed rippling tragedies. She could stay, but is she really going to pay the price of his and his family's lives just for their _love_? Even if there was no blood on her hands and even if the kind Yeagers continuously consoled her that she was not like her family, she was still the catalyst of the tsunamis that plagued their livelihood. 

The final straw that led her to such decision was seeing his father suffer the aftermaths of an 'accident' - and she knew it _wasn't_ one. She could curse at the stars as much as how many of them are laughing at her odds, but that's never going to change that she is born a damned _Fritz_. She shares blood with the family chained to avarice, arrogance, and greed, disregarding the lives of others who are not like them. And God, hearing the news of their daughter falling in love with a farmer's son was obviously not a pleasant surprise for them. She and Grisha tried to fight to protect their love with resistance and resilience, but is her father ever going to stop? 

No. He wont.

He wasn't going to be satisfied until he finds Grisha's head on a plate. He wasn't going to be satisfied until she complies in marrying the man she could never love for the sake of preserving _their_ wealth. The thought of everything just makes Dina completely sick.

Tugging on the book closer to her chest as she crouches on the ground, Dina felt like someone was holding her on chokehold. She couldn't breathe - when was she ever going to breathe without her father sabotaging every time she'd find little treasures of freedom? 

" _What about your father my love? What will he say?"_

_"To hell be damned that old man, Benedicto!"_

"To hell be damned that old man... Grisha..." Dina repeats Anastasia's words in the translation of her own tongue, blankly gazing at the sea of letters once again. Then her eyes lands on the balcony, wondering if Juliet's lips said the same words to Romeo as their eyes burned with extreme amore. 

Now she was... completely torn. Her conscience was tugging on the strings of her morals and what her heart wanted. She wants to be with him but is she brave enough to keep walking on thin ice? But at the same time, was she really a hero for choosing to raise the white flag? What is she to do? What is she really to do?

A wail of a woman drew closer and Dina observes her place a yellow paper that joined the bushes of letters.

"Should I write too?"

She blinks for awhile, shaking into a sigh. A blare of a bell caused her to whip her head at the big clock, reading that it was already 12 p.m. - merely forty five minutes before her plane boards. The young woman quickly flips to an empty page of her journal, jotting down her thoughts rapidly as if she was racing against time. When Dina was satisfied with filling the page, she takes a good look at each words, the same saddened gaze she had on Grisha when he was peacefully muttering in his sleep. 

She shakily props herself up, dragging her legs as she searched for a perfect spot to place her note. The cobblestone walls were barely exposed, letters on letters stacked by adhesives, and my, she forgot to carry one in her pocket. Out of the corner of her eye, she spots an oddity in the form of a loose stone, in which she was able to unravel and it revealed an empty crevice. Dina mutters a soft 'oh', then folding the note in a closed accordion. She pens a fold with "To Juliet Capulet, From Dina Fritz." and on the upper right corner of the page she places her cousin's address in London instead of hers - just in case if Mama and Papa were to ever encounter the note. 

The young woman sighs, glancing at it with a silent adieu, before burying it inside the crevice and meticulously placing the stone. 

Maybe Juliet has answers. Maybe she knows what to do. Or if not, she'd have to wait on what tomorrow lies ahead. 

Dina rubs her neck until she was able to fish out the jade necklace, a gift from Grisha in one of those memorable nights of their romantic escapades. A sting tears her apart again at the sight of the gem akin to the color of his beautiful eyes; she wonders once again if they cry while trying to find at least a shadow of her. She begins to march away from the walls back to her car, letting the necklace dance with the solemn breeze. In some way, she at least had a piece of him that she swears, even on their godforsaken love, that she'll never forget and let go of.

But unbeknownst to the young woman, she had already carried the seed that miraculously blossomed from their tragic and star-crossed love. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quite an angsty prologue there but this fic will be a mix of angst and fluff so yeahh. And as you can tell, Dina is an integral character to this story, not just our Pieck and Zeke, and I debated whether or not I was going to begin the story with a prologue but ig its essential. 
> 
> Anyway, thank you for taking the time to read and feedback is appreciated - help me improve plz lol. Stay safe y'all and I wish all of you a great night, day, afternoon!


	2. When Doors Open and Love Blooms

**New York, 2015**

"... Mr. Smith? Hello? Y-Yes, it's Pieck... Pieck Finger... from Marley's Pages... Uhm... Pieck, sir, we've met before? You and your husband, sir - I've- I talked to you around last week..."

If there's anything about her father that she's grateful of, that is him passing on the gift of patience to his daughter. Pieck lost count of how many times she introduced herself to Mr. Smith on the other line; maybe it was because of the noisy chatter in the park that made her sound inaudible or the old man simply just had troubles with technology. She sheepishly bites her lip while fiddling with her empty Starbucks cup, awaiting for the both of them to be on the same page. It took quite some time for him to recognize her, and she tries not to let out a chuckle. 

"Yes sir... Oh no, no! It's okay, it happens... I'm great, you? That's wonderful... I called today because I wanted to clarify something about your story, and that's if you have free time - we wont take long, it's just a couple of details I wanna confirm."

She softly smiles, while observing the different snippets of scenes unfolding in the park. It was still the afternoon of a Thursday, so there wasn't much children tossing balls around but people either walking their dogs, jogging, meditating, or just simply coming for leisure. Pieck feels like she doesn't fit in the picture because of her heels and business wear, but to be fair, she was on her lunch break. She beams when he gives her the go signal, juggling between opening her notebook and holding on to her phone. 

"So referring to your viral photo, sir... It was taken by your friend? Her name is- oh I'm sorry ... _**Their**_ name is Hanji Zoe?... Okay! Can you spell that out for me please?...H... anj...i... Zoe... no Y - Got it!" 

She flips to the next page, revealing the computer paper copy of the infamous picture dubbed by the internet as "The Kiss". As its name suggests, it was a photo of Mr. Smith and his now husband, Levi, passionately wrapping each other into a deep kiss in the middle of Times Square. The copy captured the sepia tone of when it was taken around early 70's, and everything about it never ceases to amaze Pieck. She understands why the world fawns over it; aside from the suave and handsome looks the men bore, it was a time capsule of love that was frozen into an ageless memorabilia that always feels _so_ alive. 

"It was around 1974 sir? of July 10th?..."

The story behind it is greater; apparently, Mr. Smith had an arranged wedding with a woman named Marie, but his devotion to Levi lead him to get cold feet - hence, the polished suit he is wearing. Their relationship was forbidden during such times which strained the connections they had with their family and the world around them. Against all odds, the couple chose to stick to whatever their hearts called them to do, which the picture exactly captured - as passerbies of the 'Crosswords of the World' stared at them at such disgust and pique, Erwin and Levi were too busy engulfing into each other's devotion. Love does overcome all. _'Fuck 'em heteros.'_ It never fails to make Pieck laugh remembering the words of the grumpy Levi. She praises them for their apathy and resistence for the sake of love - hell, they lasted for 41 years together (and counting) with beautiful adopted children and grandchildren. 

The woman lets out a belly laugh, "... Well, I think so too that it was a great choice you made... I couldn't imagine how hard it was for the both of you to endure such times... Mhm... And lastly, on the same day you eloped?... oh wooww..."

Pieck takes a quick glance at her wristwatch, quite aware of the fleeting time passing by. When she realized she was merely 10 minutes in before her break ended, adrenaline caused her to turn her handwriting into cryptic scribbles. As he continues to ramble on the other line, she studies her notes once more, confirming the facts herself and grins with such satisfaction.

"Hmm... I think I got it all covered for now, Mr. Smith. If there's anything else you'd like me to add or if I may again want to confirm more details - is it okay with you if I call again?... Great! Thank you so much again! .... Bye!"

She taps the red button on her screen and tosses her phone in her black tote bag. Pieck takes a minute to peruse the picture once again. It was just... beautiful. It deeply touches you and all the butterflies tickle your stomach, and out of the blue you find yourself envying to be in such type of love - even if you do have your own Levi to your Erwin. Even if their eyes were closed, their souls were colliding with each other's into one - an atomic spark, a big bang of passion of some sorts that causes them to create their own world when it fails to embrace them. The Ackerman-Smith couple was one of the lucky ones to ever win the games against fate that a lot of lovers tend to lose, and she wonders if unfortunate lovers, such as Juliet and Romeo envies them. Pieck sighs in such admiration before closing her notebook and propping herself up to walk back to her office. 

\---

Pieck cautiously closes the door of her boss' office until it creaked a quiet click. She grins giddily, then it rippled into squeals and dancing - a couple of her colleagues probably laughed at how she awkwardly flapped her wings in such off beat, but she didn't care. Hell, she was proud.

God, for several years she'd been kissing the director's ass as a fact checker, running around New York, its outskirts, and states cities away, jotting down notes and nodding her head until her neck swelled. After a great coverage that boomed Marley Pages much to her help, Magath promised her a book of her own - _and not just softcover, Ms. Pieck, we can make it all hardcover._

It's been nearly three years, still no promise of the mentioned book and for the same duration of time, her ankles would itch under her desk, anticipating at least a thumbs up - and that enthusiasm ended up sinking into exhaustion. One of her friends opened her eyes to the possibility of the director pulling a Pavlov on her, ringing the bells of that hope, just for her to drool at the empty bowl. And that was it. It took quite some time for her to orchestrate something to rebuttal against Magath if he ever rejects her; well, it was an excuse of her reluctance, and despite her confidence of her own skills, she knew she was still skating along thin ice of being unemployed with no other arms to take her in. So, after all these years, she finally decided to put her foot down, and of course, he denies her request, using the excuse of " _Miss Finger, with Marley's state and the recent controversy, I don't know if I can gamble with such card."_ She simply retorts saying "Then I guess I'll find someone else to use me as their card." If she knew that stepping on his toes was the answer, she would've done it years ago. Fearing he was going to lose the 'brilliant Pieck Finger', a nod sealed the deal. Even with their mini handshake, her fingers were trembling, this time not out of apprehension but in such excitement. 

God, she'd already imagine herself pulling an all-nighter tonight to browse through countless of ideas and inspirations she'd collected over the years, and it was finally time to blow the dust off from the binder's covers. It is probably gonna be a painful ass year or two (or even so) to finally put the pieces together, but she's willing to tread each arduous track. She's dying to see her name on the shelves and Dad's going to be so proud and-

"What the hell are you doing?" She hears a satirical cackle erupting from a cubicle and Annie's head pops out. Pieck sashays in such pride, and sits on the free chair adjacent to her colleague's.

"Guess whaaat." 

"What?" 

Pieck bites her lip, sinking on to Annie's table to reach her hands. She takes a minute to fiddle her thumbs on her friend's knuckles, before chirping. "Let's say you'll see 'by Pieck Finger' on the shelves soon" 

The blondie furrows her eyes for bit before a realization struck, then her mouth gaped open into a beaming "Ah!". "Wait you mean to tell me... Magath he-"

"Mhm." The ravenette hums and nods her head giddily. Annie breaks into a chortle of awe before the two women rippled into muffled squealing. 

"No way! I'm so happy for you Pieck."

"Thank you! I know I know! I'm-" She frees her hand from her friend, placing them both on to her face and letting out a restrained giddy scream. Annie across the table couldn't help but giggle - if there was a list of people that could crack a smile from the stoic blondie, Pieck would be there, no doubt. 

"I feel overwhelmed? I don't know? _God!"_

"You'll do great and trust me when I say people will go batshit for your book. What are you gonna write?"

She sighs and slumps on the chair. "Well, if I have to be honest, I'm kind of stuck."

"Don't you have the binder you'd show me and Hitch?"

"Well yeah but there's so much great things in there that I-I don't know where to begin!"

"You'll get there. You'll cross the hanging bridge with a motorbike - that's the Pieck way." They both chuckle at the remark. "Anyway, wanna go somewhere with Hitch after the shift? She said there's a new coffee shop a few blocks away from here - I'm highly convinced she just wants to flirt with a certain barista."

She bites her lip and hums a reluctant scale. "Uhm... I'd love to but I'd have to pass today- maybe tomorrow? I promised Pock I was dropping by."

Annie blows raspberries. "Boo, the minute you got engaged with Mr. Pork, you're beginning to forget us."

Pieck gapes her mouth open then swats her hand. " No! I still do make time for you guys! Ugh, you're just guilt tripping me so you wouldn't have to hear Hitch's terrible pick up lines alone!"

Annie chuckles. "You got me there."

\--- 

Per usual, The ' _Galliard's'_ had customers flocking in out like schools of fish, its dishes even attracting stomachs outside New York. Pieck is proud to know the backbone of such establishment, beaming when she passes by diners who'd mutter compliments in such satisfaction. The staff greets her and she reciprocates their jovial grins. With her heels beginning to blister her feet, she makes way into the kitchen, pushing its doors while being attentive to whoever may walk in or out. The kitchen was abuzz with pans and pots clicking and exhausted cooks frantically whipping their arms around as one man's voice echoed. There he was, grumpy as always, eyebrows curled into a furrow while scampering around the kitchen-

"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING!? ARE YOU SERVING SOUP OR ARE YOU SERVING THE FUCKING OCEAN!? DROP THE FUCKING SALT!"

Panic arose the staff, and Pieck even finds herself startled too. It didn't take long until her fiancé spots her and she waves and shoots him a sweet smile. She was excited to bring the good news to him - after years, her dreams were gonna come true. With the same crabby look, Porco sighs, taking large strides towards her.

"Hi babe! I got something to tell you I-"

"Pieck, can you step out? I got so much to do - We'll head out soon." He plants a quick peck on her cheek and she tries her best to resist her mood from dropping. 

"I understand. I'll be at the bar."

Porco disappears on to the scene again, waving his hands around and yelling atop of his lungs. It was pretty much her cue to step out into the dining area. She lands her eyes on the bar and curves her lips into a smile, seeing that it wasn't occupied with patrons yet. She fixes herself onto a seat, propping her tote onto the ledge grins at the blonde bartender. 

"Hey Reiner, how's it going?"

The built man momentarily whips his head upwards as he was wiping glass after glass. "Pieck! Kinda good - you?"

She sighs, dropping her shoulders in such exhaustion. "Fridays..."

He chuckles. "Count your blessings, I still have to stay in here for the night - you get to sleep."

"You're right." They both chuckle, with her sheepishly twiddling her thumbs on the straps of her tote. Reiner became her one of the closest friends among the staff; he was often there to keep her company when she'd wait for Porco. Although he and her fiancé seem to have some sort of opposing tension between each other, that didn't hinder Pieck from enjoying each other's life updates. He would ask about her job which he was well aware that she was extremely passionate of; he appreciated that she sometimes would share drafts she'd write, filling the gaps of ennui when he'd wipe tables and stack glasses on top of each other. In return, he'd complain about his failed dates and mischiefs of his academic journey, which Pieck either laughs at or give words that bring him solace. 

Pieck shifts her body properly towards him, planting a cheeky grin on her face. "Care to give me a free drink?" She winks and he winces.

"Are you really gonna take money outta me? And it's still six, _Madame Pieck._ "

"I'm kidding, I'm kidding." They both giggle, and she crosses her arms against the table, grinning. "Well, I wanna celebrate because I'm gonna have my own book soon."

It took a while for Reiner's face to beam, popping his mouth in amusement. "What!? Come again!?"

"I'm gonna have my own book!" She whispers pretty loudly.

"Oh my god! Pieck! That's amazing! Finally!"

She squirms in her seat. "I know! I know!" She sighs dreamily.

"When's it out!?"

"Well, maybe in a few years - I don't even have anything down just yet. But I do have plenty of ideas!"

"Ahhhh." He nods proudly. "Wow, I'm really friends with New York's future best seller, huh? Oh, that's if she doesn't _forget_ about me when she's famous."

She laughs. "Stop being dramatic! I promise - you'll get one of the first copies."

"Signed?" He raises a brow playfully.

"And a special message too." She winks.

The kitchen's door whips open revealing Porco who's fixing the wrinkles of his apron. It doesn't seem like he's going towards her direction, but of a customer who seems to either have a question or wanting to grant him a kudo of a dish. She turns to Reiner again, resting a palm on her cheek and sighs. 

"Anyways, you and Hoover hitting it off well?"

"Bertholdt?" His face was glowing red. "I mean I guess you can say... We're... five dates in..."

She gasps in excitement. "No way!!! Five!? Reiner you never lasted beyond two before!" They both let out belly laughs. 

"Hmm... I guess we just kind of... made it work?" 

"No wonder he's been kinda closed off but god, annoying giddy lately." She beams, recalling her colleague hunched over his cubicle, giggling and twiddling his thumbs on his phone. "Now I exactly know why - and I'm gonna bug him about it."

He chuckles giddily, "Really?" 

She hums. "Oh yeah - so tell me, you see _something_ between you two?"

Reiner sighs and there was a wash of relief on both parties - it didn't sound like a despondent one anymore but of sheer joy. "I know I do...and I hope he does too." His grin was stretched from ear to ear. "If it ain't obvious, Pieck - I like him a lot." He bites his lip, somewhat embarrassed of his confession.

She coos a proud 'aw'. "You think you guys will stick around for long?"

He squints. "Not exactly so sure - I mean... I don't know - we're still figuring things out I guess... but baby steps - just taking it slow, there's no rush."

"Ah, I see." She shuffles in her seat in vim. "We got our 'finally's today, huh?"

He beams, his cheeks swelling even more, "I knooow! It's crazy-"

" **Pieck. Let's go**." Porco barks a few feet away from them, prompting the petite woman to quickly gather her things and rush out from her seat.

"Hey! Gotta go! Chat with 'ya next time."

"Oh sure, take care, Pieck!"

"You too, Reins."

She gives a jovial nod to Reiner as an adieu and after seeing him mimic it, she quickly darts to her fiancé, following his trail towards the restaurant's exit. 

\----

The only thing breaking the silence was the revving of the engine. The scenery of the familiar avenue entertained Pieck, reading signs and billboards as they passed by each nook and cranny. She cranes her neck towards Porco whose eyes are glued on the road in front of them and she knows that glare well; there was definitely plenty of thoughts racing his mind that were poking all of his sides with sticks. She couldn't really discern what exactly was bugging him or _making him happy_ \- either way he remained the stoic look. So she clears her throat, prompting him to raise his brow and whip his head towards her. 

"You okay babe? You seem to be thinking about something." Her voice was nearly a mutter.

He blinks for awhile, "Oh nothing, nothing." She hums an 'ah'. 

The silence appeared again for awhile, with Pieck looking out the window and Porco's hands still affixed to the wheel. Now this time, he was the one to surprisingly speak up. "What do you think about going to Verona around next week?" A smirk emerges from his lips, seeing his fiancée's beam from dull to vivid.

"What? Like a getaway!? Before our wedding? Pock that's - oh my god!" She cups her hands on her lips.

"Oh... uh yeah, yeah sure." He clears his throat. "Well, I got an opportunity to look through a couple of vineyards and farms there. You know Willy Tybur? His sister was actually there awhile ago and she seems to like our food a lot to the point that she's inviting us for a tour."

"Oh." Her mood instantly drops but she tries to be enthusiastic anyway, "That's... That's great. I mean.. maybe you'll also be able to take inspirations for-for your dishes and maybe incorporate their wines!"

He bobs his head gleefully. "I know!"

Remembering her good news, she beams genuinely and prepares herself by shuffling in her seat. "Guess what?"

"Hm?"

"I'm gonna write my own book soon!"

Silence. 

Until she clears her throat again, "Pock, you're gonna see my name on the shelves! I know it's gonna be a few years from now but god! I had to wait around three years to get at least a nod from Magath? I mean it's all gonna be worth it right? I don't know what to write - should I write a memoir about your restaurant-"

Porco smacks his steering wheel, fuming and glaring out the window. Pieck jolts and blinks, taken aback. 

"Those fucking _Grice's_. Unoriginal copycat **bastards**."

With her heart still beating so fast from the shock, she decides to duck her head and peer from his view. There it was, a poster hanging outside her fiancé's rival restaurant, seemingly serving a dish that was akin to what he and his brother invented together. She tries to say something to soothe him but it felt like her tongue was held by a leash. Pieck peers at him with a look of empathy - sure her news was exciting but it was maybe best to leave it when they get home. She feels the car zooming a bit faster than earlier, causing her to curl her toes inside her shoes. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey heyy sorry for the wait, I'm currently juggling between this and another fic - which both kinda have separate writer's blocks of their own, yikes. I tried to write some scenes that somewhat deviates the events from the movie and yeah. Zeke will appear later on (I'm sorry)  
> Anyway, thank you for taking the time to read and stay safe!!


	3. Here in Verona

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pieck discovers Casa di Giuletta.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- Hi, I added a snippet of Italian somewhere and I don't speak the language at all. Please feel free to correct me.  
> \- Aye we got a snippet of Niccolo and Sasha here xx  
> \- I just have this weird problem where the site automatically spaces some of my paragraphs weirdly, so please if you find any odd gaps that look like they aren't intentional, i apologize.

The air travels were quite a chore, but reaching their air bnb itself was a great reward. Pieck's mouth gaped open as she eagerly perused the small apartment; it was cozy and had a pungent smell of old wood that was soothing. A couple of portrait and landscape paintings hung by the olive walls, and on the south of the living room, a big grandfather clock stood by the crevice that creaked with her and Porco's footsteps. Entering the bed room, a queen size bed greets the couple, containing four posters on its edges and a sheer curtain hanging on its sides. She quickly drops her suitcase at the sight of a door that she then discovers leads to the balcony, and with a click, the warm silence in their room was now booming with the murmur of the street down below. Such a cool breeze tickled her skin but the sun was kissing Verona. The wide street was decorated mostly in cobblestone, a pleasant contrast to the busy urban and modern avenues of New York. Adjacent to their apartment was a building similar to theirs but it had more lush latching on on its walls and a boarded up window. After surveying the scene for awhile, she steps back inside the bedroom again, beaming at her fiancé. "Babe! Verona's really nice isn't, it? It's different from New York!"

"Yeah." Porco sighs as he plops himself on the side of the bed. He peruses the room's interior for awhile but the way he furrowed his brows contrasted Pieck's amusement. He then began unravelling his shoelaces. "Sorry if this is the place where we're staying - it looks quite dusty."  
She plants a soft smile, sauntering towards him to plant a peck on the top of his head. "I like it regardless - we're likely going out to explore out more than staying in anyways." She then settles beside him. "Say, what do you think about Lake Garda? I saw some the brochures - I think we should go see it!"  
His mouth curves into a hesitant half smile as he switches on the other foot. "Well... Mr. Tybur told me the event is actually today - in an hour, not tomorrow. So, I don't think we can."

"Oh." She gulps. "Well maybe we can try tomorrow or the next day?"

"Mmm..." He hums hesitantly - _of course._ "There's still quite a handful of events and we can't miss out on - well, that's what we're here for, right? I mean it's not like Lake Garda's gonna disappear." 

"Oh... Yeah, for sure..." And she finds herself staring down at her dirty white sneakers. She then clears her throat to shake off her obvious discomfiture. But deep down, she remained somewhat upset. "Well... I-uh... is it okay with you if I stay behind?"

Porco freezes and turns to her with a raised brow. "Huh? Why don't you wanna go? And you're gonna be alone and bored in here aren't 'ya?"

_Well, she's still gonna be bored there regardless._

"No I don't think so." She shakes her head, beginning to caress his fresh undercut. "I just... feel a bit tired from the flight and I need a nice rest. I don't think napping in front of the hosts is a nice impression of my sweet Mr. Galliard, hm?" They giggle and share a quick kiss, Porco later on rushing to get up to unpack his case.

"I better start getting ready - are you sure you're okay here?"

"Yes of course, babe." Her lids flutter as her lips form a tender smile. "I'll just be here napping like a cat."

\--------

Pieck lied. She wasn't tired at all; she just didn't want to intervene with Porco's enthusiasm in the auction as an awkward company clinging on his arm. Besides, he was likely going to have his head deep in tasting wines and scampering from point A to point B - she'd be a nuisance wobbling while trailing him around the hall like a lost puppy desperate to be taken in. In hindsight, she should've accompanied him to show her support as his fiancée, even if that meant cluelessly nodding her head at whatever the connoisseurs ramble about. She feels an extreme wash of guilt for being petty and selfish because he was right - they were only here so he could find inspirations to further fertilize the booming plants of his family's restaurant, not for a leisure vacation. 

She sighs, continuing to stroll along the streets and craning her neck around as she read several signs to clear her head off. She doesn't know a lick of Italian but she utters them to her best pronunciation, just like a child learning how to pedal a tricycle for the first time. The street looked as mesmerizing as how she saw it from the balcony and when she took a turn, the abundance of cafes and mini shops transcended her awe. Alongside with a sling bag that bobbed on her hips every time she took steps, she carried a fresh journal that she picked up from the airport - perhaps she could seek some inspiration that she could use in the future just by exploring the small neighborhood alone.

Pieck reciprocated jovial grins to the locals who, likely assuming that she is a tourist, would give her amiable smiles - and it felt like Verona was welcoming her. She doesn't know much about the place, except that it was the infamous setting of the Shakespearian tragedy she read in her ninth grade English class. Despite its medieval-like architectures, there were traces of modern items indicating that even though Verona moved with time, it remained its amore for its history. 

Her musings were cut short when she was suddenly surprised by a bump and gasps of two children. There was a blonde girl alongside a dark haired boy with glasses, both so mortified at the sight of her purple dress tainted with what seems to be vanilla ice cream.

"S-Signora, m-mi dispiace..." The boy was the culprit, as evident from the smushed dent from his cone. Pieck lets out a belly laugh and waves her arms to console them.

"No, no, no - It's okay. I wasn't looking properly, sorry!"

She smiles kindly at the kids whose faces beam into comforted grins. They gently nod their heads, uttering more apologies in broken English before scampering off in such embarrassment. She giggles, fishing for a handkerchief in her bag before continuing to stroll while dabbing the aftermath. Fortunately, it was vanilla instead of chocolate; it would make quite a design against the ditsy white flowers.

Mid-dabbing however, another surprise came through in a form of a wailing woman. She was... quite loud... The blonde woman's head was ducked into her own palms with a paper sandwiched between her fingers. What surprised Pieck more was that the locals seem to just pass by her apathetically - contrary of the hospitality she received a while ago. She holds her breath for awhile, before deciding to follow the woman; maybe she might need someone to talk to. And sure it may be none of her business (or being a snooping fact checker just gave her the instinct of _'sticking her nose to where it doesn't belong'_ ), but her distressed wailing tugged a couple of her heartstrings. They zigzagged through a couple more turns, avoiding scooters and bicycles, passing by commercial strips and...

  
There was... more of them mourning? 

  
Pieck could feel chills. The minute they hit a certain curb, there were more people crying akin to the blonde woman and seemingly going to a certain direction. Some people however were quieter or silent, either walking casually or in such a somber pace.

And now she was confused what the hell's going on - are people coming to the place sad or happy?

She takes gentle steps forward, following their trail that lead them into the large stoned wall with an entrance in a form of a big gap and wooden doors on its sides. Then there it was, a sight that she's never seen before that caused her to hang her mouth open (and she swears she heard her jaw crack).   
There was a grand manor-like establishment, again, relevant to the medieval times. The walls were plastered with countless... and she means _countless_ of papers, mimicking the green shrubs of the adjacent building. There were more papers on a certain door, the wooden surface nearly undiscernible. There also stood a bronze statue of a woman, gripping on the skirt of her long dress and the other hand plastered on her chest. Pieck then focuses on the balcony peaking through the building, reading the hanging sign below it.

  
"Casa di Giuletta..."

  
Her uttering was likely a wrong pronunciation but she was too focused beaming at such a discovery. Of course, Verona would have something to pay homage to 'Romeo and Juliet'; she couldn't believe that she stumbled upon it by chance! She gripped on her journal tighter as if to whisper to it that she was going to jot an idea down.   
And now it made sense why the woman she saw earlier had a slip of paper; Pieck observes her tape it against the wall, the slip joining the strong thousands. 

Pieck rushes to the wall, beaming with curiosity about what each pages contain. After a couple of peruses she garnered a theme - letters all addressed to Mistress Capulet about their troubles of the heart. A couple of Italian and foreign languages confused her but a several English notes cracked her discovery. And she beams, flipping her notebook open and fishing out the pen sandwiched on its side, writing down ' _VERONA - ppl write letters to juliet, abt love troubles._ ' She takes out her cellphone and surveys the area to take quick pictures of the scene quite absentmindedly. 

She ducks her head to review the photos she took, gleaming as she swiped through but then her face curled into a glare. In the corner of the wall there's a tiny barren spot revealing the stone surface, and beside it was a woman peeling off letters with a basket linked to one arm. She hums in a bit of disbelief, whipping her head upwards and sees that the same woman was still harvesting the papers. Pieck peers around to see if anyone else is doing the same thing but none. Concerned, she strides towards the woman and stops just a few steps behind her, continuing to observe her. She clears her throat and her head whips towards Pieck.

"Hi... uhm. What-what are you doing?" Pieck timidly points at her basket. The woman gives a soft smile on her lips; she looked a little older than middle aged, keeping her her brown and grey hair neatly in a bun. She glances at her journal.

"You wrote something for the Signorina?"

"No I didn't. I-I don't have anything to write about - well I don't think I do as of the moment." The woman nods. "But I'm a writer! Uh, a journalist- a _travel_ journalist. I'm curious about this place - the letters, in fact." Her tongue felt bitter; she lied but then there was truth to it. Revealing herself as a fact checker doesn't really sound interesting according to her tongue. She flutters her lids, "Yeah, so uhm.. so why are you taking the letters off.. the walls?" 

"Ah!" The woman peers down at her basket, onto the wall, and to Pieck again with a soft grin. "Do you want to help? I can show you, miss."

-

After filling the basket, just enough for a couple letters to peek through the pile, the woman leads her to a small path. She introduces herself as Lisa, nodding her head gleefully when Pieck also reveals her name. They sneak through a small door that lead to the street behind the tourist destination, heightening Pieck's curiosity when they passed by a couple of houses. They eventually land on a two-story complex, Lisa leading her onto the outdoor stone and metal staircase. 

"We are here, Miss Pieck."

Then the wooden creaks, Lisa confidently taking steps with Pieck who is apprehensive because she feels like an intrusive stranger. It smelled of old wood like the apartment she and Porco stayed at, but this time, it had a strong waft of food that she sees taking form of a floating fog. Lisa leads her into the dining room and her mouth gapes open: a large table with several women affixed to writing and their surroundings were decorated with stacks and stacks of papers. All their eyes squint in such concentration, as they move from one page to another. Then it dawns on Pieck...

"The letters from outside? You write back? You respond?"

Lisa nods her head, humming. "That's our job. We're the Secretaries of Juliet - we do our best to respond to as much letters as we can everyday." 

The women then furrow their brows while whipping their head up towards them, then all beamed when Lisa introduces the guest. All of them were mostly of her age and older, except one who's rocking herself while nursing a baby behind a draped cloth. They happily welcomed Pieck as they revealed their names, and she discovers that the youngest woman is Lisa's daughter, Sasha, who bore an uncanny warm smile as her mother.

"Eh you write, bella?" Theresa with a mop of grey hair points at Pieck's journal.

"Oh yes, I do. I'm... a travel journalist - from America." They sing an intrigued and merry 'ahhh'.

Sasha's sleeping baby suddenly belts out a cry, jolting everyone in the room into a fit of hearty giggles. She sheepishly rocks the baby a little more vigorously, dropping her pen in order to cradle her child with both her arms. A blonde young man steps out from the kitchen, clad in an apron all covered in flour and sauce. He wipes off the sweat trailing on his forehead as he takes strides towards Sasha; Pieck assumes is the father of the child, seeing that he matched the baby's blonde hair. He leans in, rubbing circles on her back.

"You want me to hold Kaya?" He had a French accent that contrasted the Italian she heard throughout her travel. She shakes her head.

"Aren't you cooking... baking?" The baby was still wailing atop of her lungs, causing Sasha to sigh in such despondency. "No, no, amorino, I got it. It's okay"

He shakes his head to protest, "No, I'm done, it's in the oven now - and your face is very tired." He slowly peels the baby away from her which she submits. He dances the baby around while singing a jolly song in French, erupting giddy giggles with Sasha's face beaming in such joyfulness.

A woman sighs, "My life would be so much easier if my husband was as caring as Niccolo - they're even a bigger pain in the ass when they're old eh men. Good for nothing!"

"It's always 'where's the socks? where's my lunch? Maria, get me a glass of water!' - maybe try to find it yourself! Ehh... Your head is balding faster than how you spot your own damn things! Mamma Mia."

They all giggle once again, Pieck now feeling like she blended in. There was some sort of comforting feeling in the room as if she returned home to visit family. Niccolo dances the baby until it fully soothed into silence, planting a kiss on her forehead. 

"Pieck, right?" Sasha smiles at her amiably, her tired brown eyes squinting. 

"Yes - hi, Sasha." They giggle.

"Someone make your heart beat yet?"

She finds her cheeks somewhat heating up and she twiddles with her journal's spine. "Yeah! I'm... I'm actually engaged."

The woman coo in extreme endearment, proud of Pieck as if she was their sister. It just heightened her timidity but at the same gratitude that she sheepishly chuckles.

\--

Pieck returned to the walls of Casa di Giuletta, this time, a basket hung over her arm. Sasha accompanies her to switch places with Lisa who insisted it was her turn to write. It was also a great way for her to get a stretch; her back aching from being hunched over the wooden seat with a whining baby making her arm frail. To fill the gaps of silence as they were peeling papers off, the women shared their love stories. 

Niccolo and Sasha met when he visited the very 'House of Juliet'. At that time, he was on a tour with his cousin and sister who were both intrigued about the place. Their first encounter was as silly as common romance troupes in movies: it was the typical scenario of an accidental bump, the collected letters of Sasha flinging on to the air like confetti, uttering shy apologies, and when their hands touched each other, their eyes were stuck on each other's gazes. From there she'd invited them in the house, Niccolo intrigued about her mother's cooking, in which he then also shares a couple of recipes from his hometown. Him and Sasha became pen pals when he returned to his home in Lyon as he was studying culinary; both rambling mostly about food and in awe of how much they complimented each other - ' _he said it's like being each other's cheese to each other's fine wine_ '. After a couple of months, he travelled back to Verona to confess his undying love for her on the very spot she and Pieck are currently standing. Now nearly in their third year of marriage, they were blessed with a baby girl named Kaya. 

Pieck was full of awe hearing their story, putting her in somewhat shame about hers and Porco's. It was nothing as full of bliss as theirs but it still made her feel sentimental; their fathers have been great friends and two had been common acquaintances until they progressed into a relationship. She also mentions that his family had been a great help when her father was terminally ill until he unfortunately succumbs to it. Porco had been Pieck's pillar when she finds herself to weak to stand on her own, she in return supporting him on his dreams, and after five years, they agreed on being betrothed to each other. 

"Ah..." The brunette bobs her head gently, intrigued. She then glances at her left hand, pointing while planting a cheeky grin. "Let me see~!"

"O-oh..." Pieck awkwardly reveals her left hand. It was bare; no engagement ring that Sasha had hoped, and as expected she furrowed her brows. 

"No ring?"

"Well, I-uh. We agreed not to. He didn't propose - we just decided to take it on the next step. Mutually!" She plants a soft smile on her lips.

Sasha scrunches her nose, humming in reluctance. "You still deserve a ring. I mean it's up to you both, obviously. But, I think it would be nice to have something to carry, hm?"

She nods, feeling an uncomforting breeze around her neck. "Yeah..."

They ended up splitting up on opposite ends of the walls, Pieck noticing that their side was pretty much close to bare with the other still flooding with plentiful letters. She sighs to shake off the uneasiness she dreads to feel; she knows Sasha didn't mean any harm, but the recurring topic of her 'engagement ring' was a cacophonic buzzing in her ear that began in New York. She decides to clear off her thoughts, humming to herself a joyous tune her father used to play on his guitar as she continued to pick the notes like ripe fruits. Then a stubborn note forced her to pull it with quite a tug, shrieking when suddenly a stone launches at her - fortunately she was able to dodge in time. Pieck blinks at the stone and as she tries to resume on peeling, a dark crevice appears in front of her. 

"Huh?"

She ducks to match its level in curiosity, expecting a hollow abyss or maybe a small insect inhibiting. But she was greeted with a small envelope. Her eyes widen, prompting her to gently place the basket by her side and fish the envelope out. Pieck dusts it as it was covered in dust and cobwebs; the paper showing signs of age through a prominent yellow. She flips the back of the envelope and she murmurs it's penmanship.

"To Juliet Capulet, From Dina Fritz... nineteen.. eighty!?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading, and yes, Zeke isn't here just yet and everything's mostly told in Pieck's narrative as of the moment. I know that this mostly just Porco and Pieck - sorry, and no I didn't mislead you, yes this is JikuPiku fic but Porco does have relevance to the entire plot.  
> Also, a small easter egg of Zofia and Udo appearing somewhere in this chapter, tee hee.  
> I also write to escape the canon events (big yikes) but folks, it isss what it isss.  
> Thank you so, so much for reading, it means a lot to me - this has been therapeutic and my escape.  
> So yeaaa, stay safe all of you xx


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